


inflicted

by ohsadderdaze



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood Kink, Dark Harry, Dark Magic, POV Harry Potter, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:26:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28103151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohsadderdaze/pseuds/ohsadderdaze
Summary: The boy scratched at the skin on his wrist so hard it bled. He'd been doing it all summer. So much so that the skin on his left arm was nothing but scabs and irritated skin. It itched. It constantly fucking itched and it hurt. But the subtle pain was a decent daily distraction from his mind. And Harry liked that.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Theodore Nott, Harry Potter/Other(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

The boy scratched at the skin on his wrist so hard it bled. He'd been doing it all summer. So much so that the skin on his left arm was nothing but scabs and irritated skin. It itched. It constantly fucking itched and it hurt. But the subtle pain was a decent daily distraction from his mind. And Harry liked that.

Ron and Hermione held light conversation across from him on the train, looking awfully too normal in their Gryffindor robes. Harry wondered how they could do it. Look normal that is. Hermione laughed slightly at a comment Ron had made and Harry found himself jealous. After everything that had happened, all the fucked up shit the three had gone through, Ron still had Hermione and Hermione still had Ron, and Harry was alone. It had been different when the feelings between the two were left unacknowledged. Harry had been close to both of them individually. He was the one who completed the friendship. He was necessary. But now Harry found himself selfishly thinking he preferred it when the two were nothing but people who tolerated each other. Because back then he didn't feel so isolated. Now he might as well have been the boy under the stairs again.

Ron kicked his shin to get his attention, making Harry jump. He looked at Ron in annoyance, running his hands through his hair. He had grown it out that summer. Intentionally. It now brushed his browbone and curled at the nape of his neck. It was a bloody nuisance, but it at least covered the scar on his forehead that was yet to fade.

"Harry mate we're nearly here." Ron said gently, serving him a lopsided smile. Harry knew this. But he didn't want to change out of his muggle clothes. He didn't want to wear his school robes. He didn't want to go to Hogwarts. He didn't want to bloody be there.

"Harry-"

"Fuck I know Ron. I heard you." Harry snapped. He didn't mean to be so short-tempered. He didn't mean to be so angry, but he was. He was so fucking angry.

Ron stared agape at his friend. They hadn't spoken much over summer. Harry had constantly turned down the Weasley's invitations to stay the burrow. He didn't want people to see just how fucking angry and intolerant he was. Not even his best friend. He hated how isolated he felt from everyone. But it was better than being with people. When he was with people he felt like he wanted to fucking explode. Harry constantly felt like he needed to destroy something. Anything. That's why he scratched himself, in an attempt to numb that feeling.

"Harry, just go get changed in the loo. We're ten minutes away and me and Ron will meet you by the carriages okay?." Hermione spoke as if Harry could break at any moment. As if he was delicate.

Harry felt anything but delicate.

"Okay." Harry sighed. "I'm sorry Ron." A lie. "I'm just stressed mate." Another lie. " Meet you out front?" Ron nodded, leaning back against the seat, continuing his conversation with Hermione who pushed aside her concern and soon assumed the conversation also. Harry watched them for another few seconds, before grabbing his bag from the overhead area and leaving the compartment.

Harry looked sick.

He sighed as he looked in the toilet mirror, gripping the sides of the sink as he took in his appearance. His skin was pale, nearly grey. And his once bright green eyes, his mother's eyes, had now sunken into his face, making him look just as exhausted as he felt. Harry had barely left Grimmauld place since July because he was so bloody tired. People had expected too fucking much of him.

After two months of complying with what everyone else wanted, Harry just stopped.

He didn't want to talk to Rita Skeeter about his bloody parents. He didn't want to take photos with Ron and Hermione for the Daily Prophet's cover. He didn't want to repair Hogwarts.

Harry didn't want to do anything.

Harry didn't want to help.

He should've felt bad about it. But he didn't. He hadn't wanted to be the chosen one either but he had done it. Not that he had much bloody choice in the matter. After seven fucking years of dealing with the wizarding worlds bullshit expectations, Harry now refused. He'd done his part. And it had left him feeling empty and isolated. He hated the world he once used as an escape. And he hated being with the people who had once helped him escape. He fucking hated everything.

Before he could stop himself, Harry punched the mirror, splintering the reflection. He punched and punched and punched until he couldn't see anything anymore. Once the mirror was done for, he moved onto the sink. Being sure to hit the tap at a certain angle until he heard his knuckles split.

The burst tap drained over his hands and down the sink, creating a whirlpool of tainted red. Harry found himself staring down at the basin, enjoying the new stinging sensation in his hand. And for the first time since they had left for Hogwarts, he smiled.

Then he heard a small gasp.

Harry jumped slightly, muttering a stream of profanities as he turned to face the door. In the entrance stood a girl, a look of confusion strewn across her face. She was tanned- much more than Harry- and her skin was complimented by the untamed blonde waves that cascaded down her shoulders to her waist. She was pretty. And if it had been a year or two ago Harry might've wondered how she looked under the robes. She was a Ravenclaw. He could tell by the blue details on her robes. But Harry found that that's all he knew, he didn't recognise her. In fact, he was sure he had never even seen her before.

"Can you maybe, and I mean this in the least polite way possible, fuck off? It's rude to stare." Harry snorted, beginning to wash his hands under the broken sink. He wasn't a bloody freak show for this girl to watch. He glanced up again, noticing that she hadn't even begun to move, or even apologise.

"I said can you-"

"Do you not have your wand or something?" The girl interrupted, ignoring Harry's blatant disdain.

"What?" Harry asked, him being the confused one now. The girl entered further into the toilet, shutting the door gently behind her.

"You've beaten yourself bloody, the sinks broken and the mirrors shattered. If you wanted to destroy shit why not just use your wand?" The girl asked, the curiosity still clear on her face.

Harry stared at the girl in disbelief. He was sure most normal people would have turned around immediately, left him too it maybe. It was the polite thing to do.

"I really don't think that's only of your business love." Harry snorted, running his hands through his hair as he turned to fully face the girl.

"Perhaps not. But wouldn't it make me a bit of a bitch if i walked out without asking if you're okay?" She smirked slightly, almost mimicking him as she shook her hand through her hair.

"Maybe. But you haven't." The girl quirked an eyebrow at him. "Asked if i'm okay that is."

"And I don't intend to. I've never been the comforting sort." She hummed. Before Harry could get another word in, the girl pulled her wand out of her robes, muttering the reparo charm. Harry pushed himself off the sink as it, along with the mirror, began to repair itself. He glanced up to look in the now whole mirror again, finding himself staring at the reflection he had fought to destroy. He frowned, pissed off at the strange girl. He sharply turned to face her once again, ready to have a go at her, but she started before he could.

"Leave it like this or destroy it again if you must. I'll leave you to it Harry." And with that, the girl turned, exiting the toilet, leaving Harry isolated once more.

He met Ron and Hermione to head towards the great hall. It was the same as every other year. And something about that pissed Harry off.

The Great Hall looked too fucking normal. Just as Ron and Hermione looked too fucking normal. It was too much of the same. As if the war had never happened. People had fucking died right where they were sitting and people were laughing, smiling as if they were oblivious to the fact. Maybe they had forgotten. And Harry was mad that he lacked the privilege to do just that. Forget. The hall's ceiling was charmed to look like the night stare again, scattered with the same deep colours and constellations as before. Harry remembered the first time he had seen it, and how he thought nothing could ever be quite so beautiful.

He had cherished Hogwarts. It had been his escape for so long, his only home.

And now he wanted nothing more than to burn it to the fucking ground.

Though that had already been done before.

The first years were sorted, like every other year, and their respective houses cheered and clapped after every one, like every other year. Like Harry said, it was too fucking normal. He pushed the food around on his plate throughout the entirety of the evening. Though he hadn't been having much of an appetite recently. He only bothered to glance up when Hermione tapped him from across the table to ask him something. It startled him and Hermione apologised before she spoke. But her voice soon faded into background noise as Harry's gaze found a certain blonde headed witch. She was sat across from him on the Ravenclaw table, her face drawn into a frown as she read the book she held. Every so often she would respond to something her friend said, perhaps giving a small smile. But she was too invested in her book to fully engage into the surrounding chatter. Fucking house stereotypes. 

But then, as if she had read his mind, the girl's head snapped up and their eyes locked from across the room. She seemed rather placid, especially in comparison to the laughing company she held. And Harry found slight comfort in the fact that at least one person wasn't as jovial as the rest. Their stare did not falter until Harry felt Hermione shake his arm again.

"Harry were you listening?" Harry furrowed his brows at the Ravenclaw before drawing his attention back towards Hermione. He mumbled an apology as he resumed pushing his food around on his plate. "Me and Ron are gonna head to the common room early. Do you wanna come with? Figured we'd beat the crowd." Hermione laughed slightly at her piss pore attempt of a joke. But Harry too wanted to avoid people as much as possible, so he half-heartedly agreed as the couple stood up, gesturing for him to join them. He followed, but not before sparing a gaze for the Ravenclaw table.

The girl was still watching him. Harry doubted she had ever stopped. He had grown used to the staring over his years at Hogwarts. Most of the kids gawked at him for his name. Because he was Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the goddamn chosen one. It was quite obvious how broken he was, or Harry assumed it would be. He actually thought that people maybe feared him now. He wouldn't be surprised. He terrified himself daily.

But this witch was different. She didn't eye him with pity, or fear or anything for that matter. She simply observed him, perhaps with a hint of curiosity. As their eyes met once again, a shiver ran through Harry's spine, and he made a mental note to try and avoid the girl.

But he couldn't deny that it was the first time he had felt anything other than anger since the beginning of May.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry never slept well. But now it was worse than ever. He was a borderline insomniac, being lucky to be granted even two hours of sleep a night. This confused Harry. Externally, this had been the most tranquil state his life had ever been in. No Dursley's, no Voldemort, no nothing. But internally, he was screaming, his mind plagued with thought after thought. Harry had never considered himself to be a bad person, but his thoughts and dreams now deemed him unsure. 

In a drenched sweat, the boy woke with a jolt, gasping for air. It was the same dream again, though in a different place with a different person. It was always a different variation of the same situation. After his breathing slowed, Harry pulled the drape back to see that Ron was still sleeping. The muffliato charm was something Harry had perfected over the years, especially as his nightmares worsened. The last thing Harry wanted to do was be forced to talk about them with anyone. Emotions these days made him uncomfortable. Whether it was his or other people's. He really didn't give a fuck. So, avoiding the topic of his dreams all together seemed to be at least a partial solution. 

Harry didn't fall back asleep after the dream. For the remainder of the night, he lay, staring at the wooden canopy above him, scratching his wrist whenever he found the constant pain subduing. He needed something to focus on, something to control and monitor. Otherwise his thoughts would consume him. 

——————————

At breakfast, Ron told Harry that the two shared the majority of their classes together, along with Hermione. Maybe the school did it intentionally, as a coping mechanism for the golden trio, so they still had each other. And if it had been any other year, Harry would've been grateful for this. But now it just meant that he had to try harder to keep himself in check, to not fucking explode in front of them. He would've preferred to be left alone.

Their first class of the day was potions. Slughorn had returned after the battle to continue teaching, so there was no doubt he would favour the Slytherin's they shared the class with. But still Harry didn't mind potions, he found it quite interesting actually, though he still would've preferred to not be there.

They were making the draught of the living death, something they had studied already in sixth year. But Harry guessed they would go through a lot of repeat lessons. After all everyone's mind had been else where in the recent school years. Well at least Harry's had.

The class groaned as each student was paired with another from the opposing house. Harry considered it a bullshit attempt at house unity. Ron whined beside him and Harry nearly allowed his intolerance to best him but before he could, he heard his name being called out. 

"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. These seats if if you will boys, you should do well together, two bright wizards such as yourselves." Slughorn said in an all too cheery manner, pointing to a table. Harry hesitated to move towards his gestured seat, but quickly did so when he heard Ron begin complain again, no doubt shutting him up. Harry had ever realised how much Ron complained until this school year. 

Draco was already sat, looking just as snobbish as the next pureblood. But he also looked miserable. He had been in the papers just as Harry had,Young Malfoy heir released from Azkaban as charges are dropped. Harry remembered The Prophet's article. Both his parents were serving time, Lucius more than Narcissa. It would have been a surprise if Draco could ever see his father again. Harry hoped he never did. It was ironic that after years of teasing Harry for his parent's deaths, for being an orphan, Draco had now fundamentally become one. 

The two boys made eye contact as Harry crossed the room, and the blonde wizard's misery was soon replaced with disgust and annoyance. But Harry was relieved. Draco still hated Harry. And Harry still hated Draco. He knew that the vile git wouldn't step on eggshells around him, he wouldn't ask if Harry was okay like everyone else did. He knew that Draco didn't give a fuck, that he didn't care, and Harry was actually glad for that particular constant in his life. 

"Potter." Draco nodded with feigned civility as Harry slid onto the stool beside him. 

"Malfoy." Harry mumbled, mirroring Draco as he pulled the required textbooks out of his bag.

After the greeting, besides the odd ask from Draco to grab certain ingredients or the spoken repetition of instructions, the two didn't speak to each other for the rest of the class. Harry was relieved. It was one of the few times he didn't feel irritated by the company he held. Draco did nothing but what was asked by him of the professor. Of course, the disdain for Harry was still there, but the usual vile comments and taunts were no longer, giving Harry no reason to retaliate. The pair simply worked in a comfortable silence for an hour. 

——————————

At lunch that day, the Gryffindors were all planning Friday's party. It was an annual thing, and it was all Harry could hear anybody talk about. Quite frankly Harry thought the excitement was insufferable. Yes, they had won the war, but Harry had nothing to celebrate. He had sacrificed everything he had and everything he was for the benefit of everyone else. It was a general win at the expense of a personal failure. And it was fucking unfair. 

Despite this, when Seamus asked if he would be coming, Harry agreed to go. It wasn't the party that persuaded him, or his friends, but more the excuse to drink himself into the next morning. 

Over the summer Harry had become quite acquainted with muggle alcohol, and he'd missed the familiar burn on the back his throat. It numbed his mind, making him forget why he was so enraged all the time. Now Harry craved Friday so he could be numb again.

——————————

Harry trawled his way through the rest of the school week, relieved for it to be the weekend so it wasn't required of him to socialise with anyone. Until it was time for the party. Harry was half pissed already, having drank half the bottle of fire whiskey that he had underneath his bed, so perhaps the people there wouldn't be as intolerable. He didn't want to feel anything. Not even the desired pain of his destroyed wrist. The alcohol usually hazed his thoughts enough that Harry no longer felt like he was going to explode. In fact, for just a moment, he could feel empty. Becoming no more than a vacant body. 

He found the emptiness addicting. 

So, slightly tipsy, Harry made his way to the common room. At first, all he saw was a red haze. The room had been lit into a neon red, with strobed lights dancing across the floor. His classmates moved frivolously against each other, liberating themselves under electric mist. Harry noted that a few couples looked like they were all but ready to shag on the spot. That would've been a show. The place wreaked of smoke, both from cigarettes and what appeared to be a variant of the fumos spell, not allowing you to see distinctly but just enough. It was just a red haze.

The fire whisky certainly aided in subduing Harry's usual temper. So he didn't get mad when Ron drunkenly put his arm around him, stumbling so that Harry was forced to carry half of his friend's body weight. He didn't get mad when Seamus made an ill-mannered joke about the war, or even when Hermione was quick to scold the boy and immediately make sure Harry was sound. Harry didn't know why she only asked him. He wasn't the only one who had suffered from the war. Though it often seemed like he was the only one who gave a fuck about the losses anymore. 

Throughout the party, Harry had sat on the couch, puffing smoke into the air from his own cig, watching the fumes dance away into the clouded room. Two girls had attempted to get on him. He's simply dismissed the first one but when the second one started to trail her manicured fingers up his forearm, Harry hissed, shoving the girl's legs off of his lap. He didn't want to feel anything and that bitch had just reminded him of shit he wanted to forget. The party had begun to die down anyway as it neared two a.m. Harry was glad, because the numbness was fading and his usual need to explode was returning. Hermione and Ron had already left for bed so Harry left the party without having to think of an excuse. He remembered Seamus and Dean boasting that the teachers were turning a bit of a blind eye to the weekend, presuming the students deserved some sort of an escape, a release. So Harry figured he could walk around the castle grounds without getting a detention. Not that he necessarily cared for consequences anymore. 

——————————

By the time Harry had reached the courtyard, the last reminisces of alcohol had dwindled away into a nothing. Leaving nothing but angry boy in its wake. 

"Fuck!" Harry yelled, conjuring yet another glass bottle to smash against the wall in a failed attempt to release his anger. It wasn't fucking working. "Expulso!" Harry watched the bricks crumble to the ground as the structure was defeated. But he wasn't done. He was far fucking from it. Picking up the broken brick, he threw it at the opposing pillar, leaving nothing but slight scratches on the stone structure. So instead he took to taking his already damaged fists to it, punching, kicking, screaming, doing anything to release his fucking anger. But his mind was still on fire.

This continued until Harry collapsed on the floor, leaning his back against the wall he was yet to destroy. He tugged on the roots of his hair, causing a slight sting in his scalp as his elbows rested on his knees. He didn't know what he needed to do to stop his head from fucking burning but he knew he needed to do something. And until he found what that something was, Harry was helpless. 

His hands were black and blue, now complimenting his forearm which was covered by his shirt sleeves. Some of the blood from his fresh scratches had seeped through the grey material, creating red stains. Harry pulled his sleeve up. He barely had any skin left to scratch. Mostly he was just reopening old wounds. He didn't mind though. As long as it hurt, he was sound.

"Why are we always meeting like this?" Harry pulled his sleeve back down as an instinct, lifting his head. His vision was slightly blurred by tears of tears of frustration. But he didn't need to see in order to know who the voice belonged to. He stood, rubbing his eyes with his palms to clear his vision.

"No please. By all means don't stop on my account." Harry could see her now. She was dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants, matched with a black tank top. Muggle clothes. Her hair lay in the same messy waves as the first day of school, blowing slightly in the September wind. She held a spliff in her hand. She must've been cold.

"Go on then. Leave us to it." Harry scoffed, irritated by the girl's smug expression. But just like last time the girl didn't move. Instead taking a long drag of the spliff, exhaling as she watched him. "Look, fuck off yeah?" 

The girl chuckled. "That's the second time you've told me to fuck off Harry Potter." His name sounded strange coming from her lips. Especially because he didn't know hers. 

Harry sighed, stuffing his bloody hands into his jean pockets. "Look I'm sorry but-" 

"No you're not." She was right. He wasn't. "It's sound, I'm not arsed. You're more interesting than the shit party my house is throwing." She lifted the spliff for another drag, and Harry found himself staring at the way her plump lips sucked gently on it, gently blowing the smoke out. Yes the girl was irritating but she was still pretty, and it was the first time he had found a bird fit all summer. 

"I'm Valarie Moriarty by the way. Figured since I know your full name you should know mine." Harry didn't lift his gaze from the spliff in between her lips, but nodded in acknowledgment as she spoke. "You want some?" 

Now his gaze met hers. "Huh?"

"Do you wanna split the spliff with me? You seem like the sort of lad who needs to relax. Take a break from destroying shit all the time." She was wrong. Harry hadn't destroyed nearly enough. "Maybe if you used-"

Harry groaned at the small lecture. "If I say yes then will you shut the fuck up?" He stepped closer to the girl as he extended his hand out to take the blunt. Valarie eyed his hand with a raised brow, but closed the gap further between them. They were perhaps a foot away from each other, the height difference more apparent than before. Harry had to look down to meet her eyes

"Not like that." Harry didn't flinch as Valarie gently pushed his wrist down, the sting he felt actually being pleasurable. He furrowed his brows at the girl as she took one long drag, stood on her tiptoes and leant her head forward so their noses brushed ever so slightly. Harry's lips parted in surprise as Valarie slowly exhaled the smoke into his mouth. Their lips met in a feathered touch for a brief second, sending soft chills through Harry's whole body. Both their eyes fluttered shut, unknowingly imitating each other as Harry inhaled the smoke, discovering a short wave of relaxation as the substance mixed with the last remains of fire whisky.

After a moment, Harry opened his eyes, taking a step back to study the girl. Valarie's head was tilted back slightly, her collarbones perturbing at the angle. She smiled to herself, looking to be in a sanguine paradise. Harry was close enough now that he could see the splattering of freckles across her nose and forehead, being subtle against her tanned skin. Her lashes were dark and long, casting faint shadows across her high cheekbones. She looked beautiful. So serine. So everything Harry wasn't. Everything he craved.

Valarie opened her eyes. They were a light grey, lovely but full of lust. The teenage hormones nearly besting them. Harry held her gaze for another moment before his familiar scowl returned. He shoved the girl by her shoulders and she stumbled back from the roughness, eyeing Harry in shock.

"Guess I'll be the one fucking off tonight then." 

And with that, Harry pushed passed the girl, making his way back to the castle.


	3. chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is yet to be edited but enjoy anyways

The weekend came and went and soon it was Monday. Harry didn't know which he preferred; weekends or school days. On weekends he didn't have to be surrounded by his classmates, but that left his mind to be his only companion. And if he let it race, it would consume him. 

On school days his mind didn't race so much, distracting himself with classes and essays he didn't really care for. But his mates pissed him off. And he had to make a constant effort not to be a complete dickhead to them.

It was a lose lose situation.

Harry found himself most relaxed in potions. Perhaps relaxed wasn't the best word, but Malfoy had come to be one of the most tolerable people in the school. Not that anyone else would agree with him. Draco appeared to be just as isolated as Harry felt. He was a death eater to most, and a filthy blood-traitor to Slytherins, having chosen the good side in the battle’s final moments. The boy was just as alone as Harry was. 

Harry passed Draco the notes he had made as Slughorn was talking. After a few minutes the blonde wizard still hadn’t started on anything potion related, still reading through Harry’s notes.

“Potter can you stop tapping your bloody foot, it’s distracting.” Draco gritted his teeth in annoyance, not bothering to face his partner as he spoke.

“Maybe if you read a bit faster we-“

“I would if i could read your bloody writing.” Draco tossed the paper down onto the desk as he ran a hand through his icey hair, “That” He pinned the paper to the table with his index finger. “Is fucking ineligible. Didn’t realise that that aunt and uncle of yours didn’t even care enough to teach you to write.”

“You’re a right arrogant twat, you know that?” Harry huffed, not phased by the insult that lacked Malloy’s usual passion.

“I’m very much aware. Thank you for the observation though Potter.”

This was the most the pair had spoken since the beginning of the school year and of course, in true Malloy and Potter fashion, it was in the form of an argument. Though this one lacked the usual malice undertones. 

Harry subconsciously began to grin at the spat that stood no real meaning. Maldoy was still a dickhead, even though Harry had been through so much pain and grief. And again, Harry was grateful. He didn’t needed to be treated as broken as he felt, especially not by his tormentor of seven years.

Eventually the two fell back into their normal routine of silent work. This continued until Slughorn went to dismiss the students, 

“When should we meet then?” Draco asked, actually turning to Harry as he spoke. After he gave Draco a confused look, the blonde continued. “Fuckin’ hell Potter do you even pay attention? I’m not Granger, i’m not going to drag your arse through this class. We need to meet to create a potion of our choice some point in the next few days. I’ll be in the library tomorrow at lunch. Fucking jot this down if you must, i’m not repeating myself for you again.” And with that, Draco Malloy sauntered off, a clear sense of arrogance on his walk. Harry admired how his confidence maintained, even though there was no one to back it.

Harry was truly fucked in the head if he was admiring bloody Draco Malloy.

——————————

Harry sat in silence as the trio ate together, trying to ignore the cheery chatter of the couple beside him. He was going to eat the come up with a shitty excuse to part early for bed. Half way through his cottage pie, the sound of another space being occupied caused him to look up from his meal. 

“Hello Harry.” Luna hummed as she sat opposite him in the great hall, Harry looked up at the girl and gave her the faintest of smiles. He had always had a soft spot for the dotty witch, despite most people finding her weird. Harry had always admired her unique view on the world. Always the optimist. He knew she wasn’t as oblivious as she let most people believe. In fact Harry thought of her as one of the most observant people he had ever met. Her serene aura was now not only something Harry admired, but something he desired. She was his opposite at that moment. 

After a few minutes of quiet between the two, the only sound being Luna’s constant humming of a tune Harry did not recognise, the boy figured he would use this opportunity to ask about a certain witch that had appeared in his thoughts more than once.

“Hey Luna?” Harry asked, gently tapping the girls hand that lay on the desk, aware she would be in some her usual daydreamy state. “Do you know of a girl called Valarie Moriarty? He continued once he knew he had Luna’s focus. “She’s in your house.” 

“Oh yes. I’ve noticed spoken to her a lot but she’s a lovely girl. She helped me find my left shoe once. ” Luna smiled at the boy, beginning to eat the rest of the food on her plate.

“Is she in your year?” Harry knew he should’ve been more specific with his question.

“Yes, I share a dorm with her. She transferred here maybe two years ago. I suppose you wouldn’t have noticed. You had a lot going on back then. Though you seem to have a lot going on now too.” The witch tapped her temple lightly, suggesting she was referring to Harry’s mind. The boy found himself not caring at their observation though, as she was not egging him on to discuss his problems. 

“Transfer? Where did she transfer from?” Harry had never heard of a student transferring to Hogwarts.

“Oh well she-”

Luna’s sentence was cut short as a familiar ginger girl tapped her shoulder from behind, making both Luna and Harry look up at the motion.

“You ready Luna? We were going to your common room to finish the divination homework remember?” Ginny smiled at her friend.

“Oh silly me I must’ve forgotten. My head’s rather fuzzy today.” It was fuzzy everyday Harry thought. Luna smiled at Harry before standing to her feet, grabbing her bag. “It was lovely to catch up with you Harry. I’ll see you later. Bye you two!” Luna turned her head to Ron and Hermione before parting the group, though Ginny stayed behind.

“Ron did Mum send you the paper today? I never got mine.” She asked her brother.

“Yeah yeah, have mine. Bloody Errol probably dropped yours on the way here.” Ron spoke with a mouthful of food, something Hermione nudged him in the side for causing him to squeal slightly as his witch giggled. He pulled the rolled paper from his pocket and tossed it to Ginny who caught it.

“Tar. I’ll see you guys later.” She smiled at the couple and spared Harry a glance. It was then Harry had realised that he hadn’t once seen the girl since returning to school. Weird considering she was his best friend’s little sister. The pair had had what some would call a thing before everything got too fucked up last year. Harry had ended things before anything escalated beyond a simple shag. He turned to Hermione who sat beside him.

“How come i haven’t seen Ginny around since school started?” Hermione jumped slightly at Harry’s voice, as if she had forgotten he was here. He didn’t blame her, he wasn’t much for talking these days. 

“Well?” Harry snapped when Hermione failed to respond.

The girl blinked a few times before coughing slightly into her hand. “She’s been around quite a bit actually. Perhaps you’ve not been in direct contact but she’s definitely been around.” Harry hummed over Hermione’s response, noting how he mustn’t have cared enough to notice her, 

After a further few minutes, after Harry gave up on trying to finish what was on his plate, Harry stood up to leave. Intentionally not announcing his departure. He heard Ron shout something to him as he walked away, but Harry had gotten quite good at letting Ron’s voice blend in with the background noise so it became nothing but an annoying buzz. He knew they weren’t eating, and hoped that Hermione had enough bloody common sense not to seek him out to ensure his well being. His tolerance - or rather lack of - with the golden girl was returning much to that of his first year self. 

——————————

The library was quiet, much to Harry’s relief. Most students were still having frivolous conversation over a hot dinner whilst the boy who lived buried himself in a corner of the library he knew would be the most isolated. Only a few diligent hufflepuffs, trying desperately too hard to get a few acceptable’s (A) on their exams, would ever wonder to these parts. So Harry sat slouched in his seat, burying his head in a book Slughorn had recommended to the class. 

Unfortunately Harry only enjoyed a mere ten minutes of peace before the table shook slightly. He verbally groaned as he tilted his head back, expecting he knew which witch had joined him.

“Hermione would you please just-” Harry ran his hand through his hair as he opened his eyes. He stopped just as he realised that it wasn’t Hermione who had joined him.

“What do you want?” He snapped at the Ravenclaw witch who he was growing unwantingly more acquainted with.

“Not very friendly today i see.” Valarie raised her eyebrows as she withdrew her work from her bag. 

“When have I ever been friendly? Hard to even try to be when you won’t just leave me the fuck alone.” Harry muttered as he returned his gaze to the book informs of him, though he wasn’t reading anymore. 

“Your pleasesntries astound me Potter. But you should know from our previous two encounters that i have never done what you’ve asked of me” Valarie tutted. 

“Blatantly never.” 

“Blatantly never yes.” She chuckled, repeating Harry. “Besides, i quite like how angry i seem to make you. You’re very dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” Harry glanced up from his book, his grip on the cover hardening.

“Yes dramatic.” Valarie stared back at the boy, her laughter gone but the faint hint of a smirk still toying him. “You bloody Gryfindors and your bravery, you’re the bloody opitomy of a tortured hero Harry.” 

She was mocking him, She was bloody mocking him. Harry sat up straight in his seat, snapping his book shut.

“A tortured bloody hero? What you think I wanted that? You think i wanted to-”

“Yes i’m very aware of the story. Harry Potter. The Orphan, the boy who lived, the boy who died then came back to life or whatever. Quite the story.” She spoke so level-headedly. She wasn’t angry, she just spoke as if she were listing observations. Harry went to interrupt but she continued before he could. “You destroy shit, you break shit, but not with magic no, that would be too easy on you. You use your hands. That’s why they’re destroyed. And you don’t use healing spells so the pain stands as a reminder. Oh or a distraction?” 

Harry’s knuckles were now white, surprised he hadn’t ripped the book’s cover off the seams. How was her analysis of him so on point? He knew it was obvious shit was going on with him. But not even Hermione, the supposed brightest with of their age, had figured out shit this new girl had. 

“Are you quite done on your assessment of me?” Harry questioned, eyeing the girl with a look most would have run from. 

“No.” But she begin to stand from her seat, packing away the work Harry hadn’t even seen her touch. She’d only been sat down for all of five minutes. “It’s a shit situation. Your parents are dead, that godfather of yours is dead, you don’t seem to even like any of you friends anymore so you literally have no one. If you ask me i bet you wish the dark lord had finished the bloody job. Then you wouldn’t be here. Or you could just kill yourself. Though maybe you’re just too pussy to-”

Before Valarie could finish her sentence, Harry rose, pushing his chair back with a loud screech in the process. He fucking despised just how right the witch was. Who the fuck was she to study him like he was a bloody book to be read. She knew exactly how he felt and that terrified him. He spun, grabbing her by the shoulders as he slammed her hard against the bookshelf behind her. This prompted her lips to part in surprise but before the girl could even gasp, Harry wrapped his right hand harshly around her throat so she could hardly emit even the smallest of sounds. His head bent so his lips were by her ear. 

"Keep fucking talking yeah." Harry hissed, his grip tightening around the girl's throat as he tried to push her further against the shelf. "Keep fucking talking Valarie. I've been bloody tolerant-” 

“Tolerant?” The girl questioned before Harry tightened her grip so she couldn’t interrupt him again.

“Yes tolerant. I’ve been tolerant with you so far love. But see how far that pretty fucking mouth of yours can get you before I fucking end you huh?" She voiced no response, of course she couldn't, given that his long fingers were still wrapped around her throat, most likely blocking her airways. Still pinning her, Harry parted his lips from her ear, so he was looking down at the girl who was completely at his mercy. In that moment, Harry felt fucking powerful, towering over the little girl, with his hand still wrapped around her pretty fucking neck, choking her. If he really wanted to, he could squeeze just a bit harder and the girl's struggling breaths would stop and her eyes would gently close.

Harry could kill her. 

He wasn't going to. But the sheer fact that he could kill her, if he so desired, did things to the boy. So he stood, staring down at the witch, getting off on the surge of power running through his body.

But that surge was stopped when he felt Valarie's fingertips graze his side. She slowly traced the seams of his school shirt and Harry's breathing hitched. He continued to stare at the girl as she continued her delicate trace down Harry's arm, her eyes following it's path. Harry shuddered slightly as her touch feathered over his destroyed arm, causing a gentle wave of equal pleasure and pain, just like the other day. He too followed hollowed the path her touch created until her hand now lay atop of his on her neck. Harry licked his parched lips as he looked up to Valarie's face again. This time she stared back, her eyes glossed with tears from his hold on her. But Valarie's eyes were fumed by lust, a look of desire evident on her expression as her lips parted.

As if that wasn't enough, Valarie pressed her fingers into Harry's own, hardening his grip on her neck. The wizard stared down at the girl in complete awe as her eyes closed and her head tilted backward. 

Just how Harry enjoyed being in control, she enjoyed being under it. And it was then Harry realised…

It fucking turned Valarie on too.

When Harry released his grip on her neck, the girl fell to the floor, coughing. And Harry stepped back so he was now leaning against the table he had been studying on, staring down at the girl as he tried hard to steady his breathing. Though in a bad state, coughing and spluttering, bruises already forming on her neck, there was a hint of a smirk on her pale lips. And Harry couldn't fucking believe it.

He didn't say anything when he left the girl a mess on the library floor. He left all his shit in the library and parted. 

That night, Harry tried to think of anything but Valarie. He tried not to think of the power he had over her, of how both of them got off on the strange dynamic. But that fucking look of lust in her eyes as she pressed his fucking hand harder into her throat kept replaying in his mind as he tried to sleep. 

That night the muffliato charm was useful for other shit than just his nightmares.


	4. chapter 4

"You're late." Malfoy growled as Harry approached his corner of the library. It was the same corner Harry had sat in yesterday, the one with the least onlookers. The blonde wizard didn't so much as spare him a glance as he continued his writing. 

"Don't recall you giving me a specific time Malfoy." Harry scoffed and sat down opposite, tossing his bag onto a pile of parchment, earning another annoyed growl from his former enemy. 

"I said lunch." Malfoy dropped his quill and shoved Harry's bag off the table onto the floor by his feet. "Not five after, not five before, lunch Potter."

As Malfoy looked up, Harry noticed that he looked different. His usually sharp features had softened, lost in the hollowness of his cheeks. Like Harry, he looked ill. His pale lips were chapped, scabbing over in certain places and his grey eyes were encircled by purplish bags. Like Harry, he hadn't been sleeping well. Although he still carried a sense of arrogance in his posture and formalities, he no longer looked so prim and proper. His ice hair had outgrown. His usual gelled back style was gone, instead it curled in a similar way to Harry's own. Malfoy had also traded in his pompous black suits for the regular Hogwarts uniform, his tie lay loose around his neck and his shirt sleeves were rolled up in a similar fashion to most boys around the school. But Draco Malfoy was not most boys. Evident by the dark mark that peaked under his cuffed sleeves. And Harry noticed faint red markings surrounding the part of the mark that was visible, as if the blonde had tried to scratch it out. Like Harry, the boy had marks to hide. 

"So bloody pedantic." Harry said under his breath as he drew out his parchment and a quill to join Draco in their revision, ignoring what he had noticed on Malfoy's arm. Though he no longer considered the blonde git the enemy, he still didn't care to know about Draco's problems, nor did he really care about Draco.

Harry had managed to avoid people for the most part that day. Haven being woken up by his nightmares. It was the same dream he always had. Though this one had been Valaried by an impudent witch whom he was growing all too acquainted with; now both consciously and subconsciously. So with the unwelcome witch present in his thoughts, he left before Ron could begin to stir, then walked the silent hallways of Hogwarts until it was time for first period.

It was because of Harry's lack of interaction (besides the necessary class discussion) that the boy's mood was light. Though Harry's light mood might've been considered most people's foulest one. Nevertheless his temperament was an improvement from most days, perhaps that was why he was finding Malfoy's retorts tolerable, amusing even. But then again, perhaps that wasn't the reason.

"It's not pedantic Potter, it's common bloody sense. Of which you have none." 

"You're losing your touch Malfoy." Harry actually teased, smirking slightly. But before the conversation could turn too awkwardly friendly, he continued. "So what potion do you want to make?"

Draco was quick to be rid of the look of surprise at Harry's smile. In the seven years the boys had known each-other and fought, Harry had never once smirked at anything coming out of Malfoy's mouth.

"I was thinking we'd play it safe to be honest. Don't think either of us really give a fuck about outdoing ourselves yeah?" Harry nodded slightly, watching the blonde talk. "So draught of peace. It's one we did with Snape in fifth year. You know the one where he poured your cauldron out in front of everyone because you forgot the hellebore? Yeah well it's actually seventh year level potion. 'N no one did it right anyway so yeah, i thought we'd do that one." 

Harry stared at the boy, noticing how Malfoy had remembered something so trivial as him forgetting an ingredient. Harry thought that Malfoy had probably taken note of it to use in a future spat, and successfully so.

"Sound with me." Harry muttered. Draco was right, he didn't really give a fuck about outdoing himself and Harry was quite content with letting Malfoy take the lead with the potion.

The former enemies' civilities continued throughout the course of lunch. Discussing the necessary ingredients and which method of stirring would be most effective. But soon enough Harry's vision began to disorientate, forcing the boy's eyes to feather shut. His exhaustion often made him drift off during daylight hours. Though it wasn't quite sleep. It was like his mind had found a happy medium between consciousness and sleep, somewhere where it wasn't plagued by dreams or angered by classmates. Like Harry was floating in the space between. 

Draco kicked Harry's shin, making him come out of his daze as he jolted forward. "What the fuck Malfoy."

"Keep it down Potter we're in a bloody library do you wanna get us kicked out?" Draco hissed.

"No need to be so fucking harsh about it though is there?" Harry seethed, pushing his glasses up to rub his eyes.

But if Harry was awake he would've seen that Draco had been anything but harsh. He would've seen Draco staring at him, watching his tranquil state, admiring how pacific Harry looked without the usual scowl drawn upon his face. He would've seen Draco blink a few times before kicking Harry to consciousness. 

"Maybe if you could stay awake long enough to make it through this lunch we could get this shit done faster yeah?" Harry muttered a snarky reply and continued with his work, not looking to Malfoy to see that he had not joined him in resuming the work pace.

"Don't sleep well then?" Malfoy inquired. 

Harry looked up from his work at the blonde who was leaning back in his seat, watching him. "What? Why do you care?"

"Don't. Just an observation." Malfoy shrugged, looking down. "Is it nightmares?"

"I thought you didn't care Malfoy. Maybe you should sort your own shit out before you start questioning me about mine. You're not lookin' too good either."

"I get them too you know." Malfoy ignored the remarks. Harry was taken back by the confession, the git always seemed like the type to bury his problems deep within, having his guard up constantly. But still Harry didn't even see how their situations even compared in extremities. "Don't see me fucking raging every day."

Harry didn't respond, instead he dug his fingernails into the pads of his hands, focusing on the sharp pain caused by the moon shaped cuts. Harry didn't enjoy confrontation, especially when he was the subject to it. And he certainly didn't enjoy being subject to it by Draco bloody Malfoy. 

"But you're right. I don't care." Malfoy started to pack his belongings away, before eyeing Harry's fisted hands. In one fast movement, Draco was gripping Harry's wrist, making the close to healing cuts hurt. Harry gritted his teeth, attempting to pull away though he failed to escape Draco's grip. "Just find a way to release your anger Potter. Otherwise i can guarantee that that shit—" He looked at Harry's wrist in near disgust before throwing it down onto the table. "Will fucking destroy you." 

——————————

Harry trailed behind Ron and Hermione as the trio headed towards their last period. To say the boy was angry would have been an understatement. His moment with Malfoy at lunch played on constant repeat in his head. The fucking nerve of him to touch him, never mind to even say the shit he said. In Harry's mind, their situation didn't even come close to comparing. Draco Malfoy was simply a fucking coward of a boy who had hesitantly chosen the right side of the war at the last minute. Draco also had a family that loved him. 

Harry, however, was forced to lead a fight that was not just his. With no support at that. Harry did not have a family who loved him. The Dursley's abused him and the family who did care for him were fucking dead. He supposed he had his friends but quite frankly, Harry sometimes wished them the same fate.

"Fuck." Harry groaned as yet another first year ran into his shoulder. The crowded Hallway was far too constricted for the flourishing amount of students rushing to get to class on time and Harry tensed every time someone so much as brushed his shoulder. 

Hermione slowed as she turned to Harry, perhaps to check he was still present. The couple had been chatting to themselves with Harry walking behind them.

"Harry come on, we'll be late for class at this rate." Hermione moaned. Harry didn't respond, keeping the same pace as before. Hermione held her hand towards her friend, as if she was to drag him along with her. "Come on Harry." Her hand brushed his before Harry used his wrist to push hers away. 

"Jesus Christ Hermione I did not ask you to walk with me you know. I'm not a bloody toddler, I don't need supervision. So just go walk with Ron alright?"

"Alright mate she just said she doesn't wanna be late. Calm down yeah?" Ron said, taking Hermione's hand. "Come on Mione, just leave him okay?" Hermione nodded, throwing Harry a sympathetic look before continuing on with Ron, hand in hand.

Harry began to mutter a stream of profanities as he continued after them. The fact that Hermione had the fucking audacity to still pity him even when he was a down right cunt to her angered him. He didn't want her pity, he wanted her to fuck off, to leave him in his own isolation. Before Harry could get would too much in his anger, his thoughts came to a halt as he felt another harsh blow to the shoulder, knocking him backwards slightly as his gaze faltered off where Hermione and Ron once where.

He looked down at his feet and saw a disheveled Valarie sitting on the floor beneath him, groaning at the impact. She looked different today. Not as collected as she usually was. Her usual mess of waves was tied up into an equally messy knot on the top of her head, the few loose strands brushing her high cheekbones which flushed as she looked up to match Harry's gaze. She looked a fucking state. But she looked good. Like she had just been fucked. Harry's lips parted as he took in the girl he towered over, the girl he dominated.

He bent down so he was eye level with the petite girl, ready to say something. But once again his words faded to nothing as he noticed the delicate bruises that formed a faint hand shape around her neck. They painted a pretty picture against her skin which paled underneath the lighting. Harry's lip turned up into a satisfied smirk as his fingers began to trace the pattern with his fingertips, admiring his art. Valarie's breath hitched as her flushed chest began to rise at the contact. At that moment, it could've been just the two of them in the corridor, with Valarie having Harry's full focus and Harry hers.

Harry leaned in further, tucking a loose strand of her behind the girl's ear, a far too delicate contrast to his manners from there previous encounter. His hand lingered on her jaw before tilting it up gently. Valarie's lips parted as her eyes filled with the same desire Harry recognised from the prior day. His other hand rose to continue the trace of the evident bruise, before pinching the area, subtlety enough for onlookers not to notice. Valarie's eyes screwed shut but she made no noise to signify the pain he knew he was causing.

He chuckled again, rubbing the place he had twice harmed. "Nice neck sweetheart." 

Harry grabbed Valarie by the shoulders and lifted her up to stand as if she was his own personal rag doll. He bent to pick her bag up before shoving it into her chest hard, so she stumbled back in her coherent daze. He looked her up and down as she began to collect herself before he sauntered off, leaving Valarie, and the smirk that was creeping onto her lips,to fade into the abyss of students behind him.

The interaction had raised Harry's spirits, though only slightly. Because he had found joy in toying with the girl who got off on the pain he inflicted.


	5. chapter 5

"What's so funny?" Harry scoffed, looking at Ron who had just nudged him. He was laughing with Seamus. Harry took a sip of the pumpkin juice in front of him, noticing how Hermione was eyeing the two immature lads in their company.

"Just you n that bird you ran into yesterday." Harry's jaw tensed slightly as Ron nodded laughed. "Seamus here fancies a go at her don't you sea- owe! Fuck Hermione bloody hell." Ron bent down to rub the shin Hermione had obviously kicked.

"Don't call her a bird Ronald, it's disrespectful. She's a person for godsake." The witch rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, still smirking with Seamus who, rightly so, refrained from making any further remarks. "Besides, be rude of him considering Harry's taken a shining to her." Hermione chuckled as she dug into her dinner.

"How do you know about that anyways?" Harry hissed at Hermione who went to answer before she was interrupted by Ron.

"It was the middle of the bloody hallway mate. People noticed."

Harry kept quiet, wanting to refrain from coming across as annoyed by a simple bit of banter. But he was annoyed. Of course at his mate's comments but also the undeniable fact that they were right. Though Harry wouldn't have described it as taking a shining to Valarie. It was more like an obsession he wanted to kick. An intrigue he couldn't shake. She was fucking infuriating but she apparently couldn't and wouldn't stay the fuck away from him. And Harry was also annoyed at the part of him that knew he didn't want her to. The part that welcomed his new outlet.

Before the delightful subject matter could have been discussed any further, the group was interrupted by Ginny, Luna and Neville who sat beside Hermione, across from Harry. Ginny gave him a weak smile in an attempt of politeness, one that Harry chose to ignore. She was just another person taking pity on him. The normal Ginny would've been an outright bitch to him with the way he was treating her. But Ginny had gone soft with him. She had been wary of Harry since the battle, cutting him some slack. Slack that Harry didn't need cutting. People were too bloody nice to him when he knew he was nothing but a constant dickhead, a constant negative energy that they chose to tolerate in order to keep him around. It'd be easier if they'd shut him out like he did them.

So Harry left before he could be asked any more questions by his classmates. He wasn't one for mindless chatter. Especially not the awkward kind.

He walked through the halls even after the bell signifying the end of lunch had sounded. There were few people around, the halls quieter than usual, leaving Harry with the realisation that his head was definitely and undoubtedly fucked. He couldn't think straight because of her, their encounters playing on repeat like a broken record in his mind. Valarie was like a bloody infection, seeping through his skin and into his blood. Tainting him. His own personal dark mark. When he closed his eyes, he saw hers, taunting him as they always did. He saw that same lust filled gaze she gave him as he had his hands wrapped around her neck, daring him to lose all control. Harry new he needed a new outlet for his anger. And perhaps this witch could be just that. It was certain she'd be damn happy to be one for him, that much was obvious.

Not only could he not be rid of her mentally, he saw her everywhere too. In the great hall, the corridors, the bloody library. The girl was everywhere he was. So when he turned the next corner to see her leaning against a wall talking to someone, he was far from surprised, She had that same fucking smirk she always had on her face. The one that told you she knew shit you didn't. The one Harry wanted so desperately to wipe off.

What Harry was surprised to see however, was the company she chose to keep. There, standing beside her, was Draco bloody Malfoy in all his obnoxious glory. The two of them made quite a pair. Both as insufferable as each other. Harry snorted. Of course the only two people in the school he had conflicted feelings towards were fucking chummy with each other.   
Harry watched as the two were still emerged in what must have been a riveting conversation.

"Maybe we should try that." Malfoy's voice vibrated off the walls as Valarie leant forward to see something. Harry realised they were looking at a book, though he could not see what kind.

"We could." The witch nodded in agreement. "Leave me with it n i'll look more into it." Draco passed her the book which she slid into her bag, tightening the grip on her backpack as she pushed herself of the wall, readying herself to leave. "I'll talk later Malfoy, i'm already late for transfiguration."

Valarie didn't wait for a response as she turned to leave. But not before the pull between Harry and her earned him another knowing smirk as the two locked eyes over Draco's shoulder. Merlin what he would do to rid her of that fucking smirk.

Harry watched as her and Draco walked off in opposite directions. His eyes following her as she opened a door to a classroom that most definitely wasn't Transfiguration. A classroom Harry knew was empty for this specific period.

Harry's legs moved before his mind had a chance to follow. Within seconds, he was closing the classroom door behind him. Leaving him and Valarie in an empty classroom, completely isolated. When he turned, his eyes focused on the centre of the room.

There, Valarie sat on a desk, her slender legs crossed, exposing the lace frill at the top of her black stockings as her too short skirt rose up. Her perfectly manicured fingers gripped the edge of the desk as she leant forwards, eager. Like a little girl waiting for something. Harry noticed that she looked as she had the previous day. And fuck if it didn't still turn him on.

"For a lad who tells me to fuck off so much, you were awful content with listening to mine and Malfoy's conversation before. And following me here in fact." The witch crossed her arms, tilting her head to the side in feigned confusion as she stared at Harry.

"You study me like a bloody test subject giving me all your profiling shit but i can't just so happen to stumble upon you and Malfoy talking in a hallway?" Harry tutted, standing tall in the room, a few feet away from Valarie.

"I never said you couldn't Potter. Just that your words contradict your actions that's all." The blonde shrugged. "You didn't have to listen to our conversation, you could've continued walking."

"I dont give a shit about what you and your death eater fella were talking about Valarie. If that's what you're implying."

"So why listen?"

"Just think it's a bit weird how you moved on to Malfoy is all. You tryna fix him too?" Harry spat. He noticed how she didn't dispute the insinuation of her and Malfoy.

"Nope. Not everyone is as broken as you Harry. Not all lads are as pussy as you. They deal with their shit." Valarie chuckled, her eyes were innocent but her words were not. Harry's gaze was drawn downwards as she moved her legs slightly, causing her thighs to rub together and her skirt to ride up higher, revealing a garter. Merlin she was trying to fucking kill him Harry thought, his jaw tensing at her words and actions.

Once again Harry's body moved before his mind could process his actions. He had closed the gap between the pair, his hands forcing Valarie's legs to uncross, digging his fingers into her thighs with a bruising grip. Harry captured her gaze which flashed with shock before being replaced with her usual smug demeanour.

"When are you gonna learn to keep that fucking mouth of yours shut Valarie?" Harry's right hand rose to grip her jaw, the other maintaining a bruising grip on her left thigh.

"When are you gonna do anything other than choke me? It's getting rather boring if you're not gonna fuck me whilst doing so."

"Why fuck me when you've been fucking Malfoy?" He spat, his jealousy seeping through in his anger.

"Wha-" Harry didn't allow Valarie to get a word out before he pressed his body against hers, nudging her thighs open, earning a moan from the girl as his covered erection met her core. Harry admired how Valarie's head fell backwards with pleasure, pushing her chest out as she did so.

"Is one fucked-up lad not enough for you? A little slut like you cant just have one huh?" Harry thrusted forwards slightly, the friction earning him another one of her sweet moans. "You're fucking asking for it you know. With your neck on bloody display like that for the whole fucking world to see." He continued his gentle thrusts as he taunted her. "You wanna know what i think sweetheart? I think you wanted me to see. I think you wanted to remind me, to tease me." Harrys fingers played with the girls two top buttons which were still left undone, exposing the flush of her chest. He moved to trace the outline of her lace bra, the part that was visible. "Isnt that right Valarie?" For once she kept her mouth shut, her eyes still closed as she leant back on her palms, exposing her chest to him further.

"Valarie." Harry's tone deepened as he tugged her forward by her tie so their faces met. He began to run the back of his hand up and down her thigh, causing her already short skirt to ride up. "You know for a girl who runs her bloody mouth so much you should know that when someone asks you a question, it requires an answer."

"I'm not required to answer anything." Her eyes remained closed as Harry held her by her tie, his other hand continued to etch higher up, drawing circles agonisingly slow on her thigh. He tugged her by the tie against, though gentler this time so his lips were by her ear.

"Oh but you are darling." He took her earlobe between his teeth before he began to plant kisses on the marks he had left previously on her neck, sucking harshly on each one before soothing the stinging sensation with his tongue. "You are required to answer if you want me to get you off on this desk. You just said you wanted me to fuck you. I know you've been dreaming of it love. My hand wrapped around your pretty neck as you ride my fingers, easing you into it. We could put that bratty mouth of yours to some use huh?" He said as he continued to taunt her with his mouth.

"I could just get myself off you know." Valarie panted. Harry stopped his assault on her neck, his lips hovering over her jaw with a gentle graze. "I don't need you to make myself come Harry." It was hard for her to get the words out, Harry could tell, but of course she was too bloody difficult to refrain from making her witty remarks.

He was dazed by her words, angry but ridiculously turned on. As was Valarie, evident by her constant pants, like she was short of breath. It was only when he felt the girl's own hand brush against his, moving towards her underwear that he was brought back to reality.

"Don't you fucking dare." Harry grabbed her hand from beneath her skirt, bringing it to the front of her throat. Valarie's eyes opened, staring doe eyed at Harry with feigned innocence. Harry used his own hand to pressure her to choke herself, before he slammed her upper half down so she lay horizontal on the desk, her feet barely touching the floor. Valarie's head hit the wood with a thump, causing the girls eyes to roll into the back of her head.

"You look so fucking pretty like this." Harry muttered as he leant over her, still between her thighs, his thumb traced her jaw before it moved its way to her lips. dampened by her own tongue. Valarie opened her eyes again which were laced with ecstasy as Harry pushed his thumb into her mouth which she instinctively sucked on, her tongue tracing the pad, eliciting a moan from both of them. Ffucking desperate when i haven't even touched you." He pushed his thumb in deeper, the rest of his hand gripping her jaw so she couldn't turn away even if she wanted to. "Fucking desperate because I just slammed your head against this desk. You seeing stars yet baby?"

And she was. she was seeing a whole fucking galaxy.

"Look at you. You walk around with those innocent eyes and that smart mouth thinking no one will treat you like the fucking bitch you are." Harry pulled his hand from her mouth, rising it to his own she mimicked Valarie's previous actions, dampening his fingers more before he moved it between the pair, cupping her over her knickers. Valarie's body shivered at the more direct contact.

In return, the witch struggled a bit so her hands were at his belt, undoing it with eager fingers, lifting her head off of the desk so she could see him. After unbuttoning his trousers, she gripped his hard cock through his briefs.

"Look at that, I didn't even have to tell you what to do you just did it.I knew you could be a good girl for me." Harry forced himself to hold back a moan as he spoke. Valarie nodded her head in agreement, signalling her defeat. Harry pushed the heel of his palm against her cunt before he pulled her underwear to one side, smirking at the drenched material.

"So fucking wet for me." Harry swiped two fingers down her slit, collecting moisture before dragging them back up to rub round her clit, never quite hitting where he knew would satisfy her. He grabbed her by the hair, lifting her up so he could kiss her neck, sucking just below the ear causing her soft moans filled the room.

When Harry finally touched her where she most craved, Valarie began to palm him through his boxers as her other hand gripped the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Harry was so hard it hurt. But still, before she could move her hand again, Harry took both of her hands, raising them above her head before pushing her back down so she lay on the desk again, his fingers never stopping rubbing circles on her clit. When her head hit the desk again, harry pushed a finger inside of her, groaning at how tight she felt around him. His thumb moved to continue rubbing her as he pumped his fingers into her, leaning forward to kiss her jaw.

When Harry pushed another finger inside of her, Valarie groaned loudly. Whimpering when he slowed his movements, swearing in frustration.

"You best keep that mouth of yours shut if you didn't want anyone walking in and seeing you beneath me. Seeing how much of a whore you are for me." Harry continued the agonisingly slow movements,

"Fuck Harry, please" she cried, her eyes now closed.

"Fuck Harry, please, what? What do you want baby? You wanna come on my fingers Valarie?" Harry mumbled into the base of her throat, the vibrations adding to her pleasure. "Huh?" He taunted when he received no answer

Harry chuckled into her ear as Valarie pleaded to all the Gods for him to let her finish. He slowed his movements further.

"My little whore." He muttered, hovering his lips over hers. With that, Harry pulled his fingers fully out of her, before plunging them back in, pumping in and out with speed, rubbing hard on her clit.

Valarie was a writhing a mess beneath him, unable to say anything other than his name and fuck as she began to reach her climax. But when she arched her back, signalling that she was going to come. Harry pulled away, earning a cry from Valarie as he grabbed her by the hair, lifting her so she was forced to rest on her forearms. He admired the mess of a girl in front of him.

"You say i'm broken yet you're the one who keeps coming back like a stupid little girl. You're just as fucked in the head as i am love."

"Fuck you Harry." Valarie said said between pants, though her usual sharpness was lost with her almost orgasm.

"Maybe one day." Harry chuckled, sucking his fingers clean before he pushing her back down on the desk.

He left the room.

That wiped the fucking smirk of her face.


End file.
